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VIEW; 'Veronica's Closet' Has the Cats on Edge

MY cat Antonia is furious. She says, ''How come Kirstie Alley has an ancient bulldog pulling a wagon in her new sitcom and all I get to do is eat scientifically approved Iams Cat Chow and walk on all fours around this house?''

I tried to explain to her that the ancient bulldog animal companion in Kirstie's new series, ''Veronica's Closet,'' dwells in a hipper, sexier and so much funnier universe than we do. We're still a little retro. In my prime viewing days, Mary Tyler Moore as Mary Richards, the nicest single gal in the universe, optimistically began every show tossing her beret into the clear Minneapolis sky. Veronica in her title sequence, on the other hand, is posing in lingerie and purring in her bra.

Veronica has apparently really made it after all. She not only is the self-proclaimed Queen of Romance and flirty lingerie, but also has the highest Nielsen ratings of any new show this season, and critics are lining up to proclaim her show ''must-she TV.''

Everything's up to date in Veronica's closet. The supporting players include a very 90's crew: a sexually ambivalent male co-worker confidant, providing endless possibilities for coming-out-of-the-closet story lines, and an acerbically hilarious Rubenesque best female friend with a bashful bladder and a heart of gold. The head of public relations is a very buffed former male model. It takes a thoroughly modern girl to have a thong boy do P.R.

But for all of Veronica's contemporary lingo and hip Flatiron office space, she's still the classic self-destructive achieving career woman. When she's upset she compulsively eats. When she meets a desirable, thin, younger woman she hates her on sight. ''She's so gorgeous it's about time someone rejects her,'' Veronica sneers. Apparently what passes for up-to-the-minute female witty seems actually to be good old-fashioned 'jungle red' bitchy.

Finally, Veronica passes the real test of female accomplishment: she learns to treat a perfect male specimen as a sexual object. When a hunky personal trainer arrives at her office she salivates as much as any male wolf would for a ''Baywatch'' babe. Veronica and her cast are breaking television ground by commenting on men's bodies almost compulsively. There's even a hot and heated debate as to whether Tiffany the model is a man or a woman. She's got a little something extra that people can't keep their eyes off.

Veronica does have her heartwarming retro television moments. Her father knows best. He's even her chauffeur. It takes a lot of love to make room for this kind of daddy -- he's a philandering one. Veronica must have had quite a first therapy session when her brilliant psychiatrist pointed out a certain link between her father and her choice of spouse. Well, to be as successful as Veronica, as driven, as much fun and as up-to-date neurotic, there have got to be a lot of screwed up men in your life. But now, television is brave enough to show them. I guess we've come a long way, baby.

I imagine an all-star sitcom-heroine slumber party at Veronica's house with Murphy, Mary and Lucy. Veronica could provide the baby-doll nighties, Mary could make her signature dip, and Lucy would entertain. And when all the girls were nicely tucked in bed they'd have a cozy chat.

''So what was the plot of your first show?'' Murphy the newswoman wants to know.

''Well, I left my husband 'cause he's a jerk,'' Veronica says, and the mere thought of him makes her reach for another doughnut. The women all nod their heads.

''You know, there's only one other woman on my show and she's very funny and weighs more than I do, so I'm not threatened by her.'' Veronica is now talking a little too fast. ''But I'm feeling slightly uncomfortable now being around all of you.''

''Honey, I was in the movie 'Stage Door' with Eve Arden, Katie Hepburn and Ginger Rogers,'' Lucy smiles. ''There's nothing like being with other funny women.''

''Kathy Najimy, who plays Olive on my show, is very talented and beautiful in her own way.'' Veronica can't believe she just said that.

''She's a brilliant comedian,'' Lucy agrees. ''But I never had an episode about Ethel wanting her own bathroom, and that was the subplot of your second show.''

Even the doughnuts aren't making Veronica happy now. She hates herself and everyone in the room. She wishes she was back in the Flatiron building surrounded by her family of loving misfits so she could be brazen, brash, dirty and all the good stuff she gets to be. She knows any minute now they'll be talking about the importance of Murphy Brown's new breast-cancer episode. Why don't these women just give it a rest. It's not the responsibility of Veronica's series to create new female stereotypes. It should look new, sound new, but be very comfortably, neurotically funny with that TV female twist of mean. Don't they know mean passes for funny a lot these days?

''What happens to you when they make a series about Frederick of Hollywood and his trashy negligees?'' Murphy asks.

Veronica suddenly perks up. ''That's a good idea for an episode,'' she says. ''I could fall in love with Frederick.''